The Night was Theirs
by Omnicat
Summary: Fluffy 1xR, Relena's POV. ...'The night was wasted without him.'... Fluuuuuuff.


**Title:** The Night was Theirs

**Author:** Omnicat v''v

**Rating:** G, or K in the new system

**Genre:** Romance, General

**Spoilers:** Nothing much... But the fact that the four characters mentioned by name are alive, and that this is post-everything canon, could be considered a spoiler.

**Warnings:** Um... I didn't think it was fluffy when I wrote it... but of course it _is._ Very much so, I am proud to say.

**Pairings:** Heero Yuy x Relena Peacecraft, Milliardo Peacecraft x Lucrezia Noin

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters. I am just doing what the owners refuse to do; give it a happy aftermath. For my own pleasure, and, without gaining anything by it, for the pleasure of my readers. v''v

**Summary:** A romantic (i.e. FLUFFY!) one-shot from Relena's point of view. ...'The night was wasted without him.'... No heartache in this fic, I promise. The title sucks, I know, but never judge a book by its cover!

**Authors Note:** I wrote this in a state of drowsy peacefulness, brought about by a subtle mix of chocolate, loss of blood and a very late hour without any annoyances. So don't fear for any heartache. Beta's also think there is no need to fear for your sanity. This time. Never mind. Simply enjoy.

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**The Night was Theirs**

Another ball. Whoopie... Like she could feel like it, today. She couldn't even recall the occasion.

There was not much that she could recall at all, the past few days.

Her head was elsewhere. Her heart was elsewhere. The night was wasted for her, without him.

Relena walked around, danced, conversed, laughed, did everything that was expected of her. She was the Vice Foreign Minister, former Queen of the world and the Dove of Peace for everyone, all around, all the time.

Everywhere but on the inside.

Normally she wouldn't mind. She loved her job, after all. Just not now, when her other great love wasn't there with her. He was out on a mission again...

Her brother occasionally relieved her of the men begging for a dance with her just for the power she had. He wouldn't nag on about politics, economical problems, or the question whether or not she was planning to get married any time soon.

She wasn't. Really, she was only eighteen!

Besides... She smiled whenever that thought trailed off in her head. Shy, lighting her entire face, pouring from a warmth deep in her chest. The only _real_ smiles she would cast all night.

Milliardo had good reasons (for him, at least) not to touch the subject of her love-life.

So she was relieved when he would abandon his Lucrezia to tap them off, dance with her in a calm tempo, to spare her tired feet, for a while. Then walk her over to the table with refreshments, sit her down and talk about everything unimportant, to occupy her mind.

As long as it would last. Until another one would claim her.

Another man, reeking of cheap cologne and with a crude sense of humour. She only listened to him to vaguely keep track of the conversation, only so much that her brain would perk up whenever something of possible future importance was brought up, to store it away, sometimes exploit it further, in a reflex every diplomat should master some day soon.

Then to drift away to the place where she had left her heart, as she had done all night.

She thought of that other warm, caring heart, concealed by cold Prussian eyes.

The hours passed, the evening progressed, and Relena Peacecraft-Darlian was the centre of attention, as always, while she wasn't even present.

She was concerned, uninterested, _plagued_ in a way. The opposite of everything she showed.

She knew she really didn't have to.

It happened all the time, and nothing would ever go wrong. She could count on that. She really could, and that was the only thing keeping a part of her present.

And still, every time he was called from her, she felt cold, incomplete.

She couldn't bear the thought never to be whole again. So she worried.

She sighed, in relief and sorrow alike, when Milliardo relieved her again. Nothing to say, and he understood, whatever he might think of it.

Suddenly his face locked. Then it softened again. A tap on her shoulder.

And there he was. Soft, thick chocolate hair, indecorous for occasions such as this as ever, falling over his slightly slanted, extraordinary eyes. Tuxedo complementing their unusual colour.

And without a visible scratch or wrinkle.

Back days early, but then again, this was Heero Yuy. You couldn't expect him to take his time more than was needed for him to return successful and unscathed, when he had other business to attend to.

And he certainly had business to attend to tonight.

She beamed, and practically glomped him, throwing her arms around his neck. In a way worthy of a Vice Foreign Minister, of course.

Strong, warm arms wrapped around her, capturing her in their safety.

Milliardo disapeared from their minds. He returned to the beautiful, kind, smart, strong, to _his_ Lucrezia Noin, and was as happy as he could be on a night like this. Keeping in mind that his little sister had a right to the same happiness, even if it be with Yuy.

She deserved it more than anyone else.

Heero and Relena danced, all night, undisturbed. No one in their right mind dared to ask the infamous ex-pilot to hand Relena over. Leaning closer into each other than was prescribed, than they should, not caring that they were surrounded by people watching their every move. Her head rested on his shoulder while she breathed in his scent, fresh and honest. He sang softly in her ear, nonsense words to the music played, only for her to hear, as he would often do.

And he smiled.

A new expression on his stony face. Not the sneer, the scowl, the death glare, the maniacal, deathly grin, not shock, rage, hatred, loathing, fear, horror, nor the broken expression of absolute forlornness.

His young smile, that had graced his face so few times yet.

The smile that would reach to his beautiful Prussian blue eyes, lighting them form deep within, just as her face would glow whenever she looked at him. The smile that melt his icy mask, lifted years and years of cold, of death, of lack of care, friendship and love off his features, and warmed them so that she wanted nothing more than to touch them.

She laid her hand on his pronounced, tanned cheek-bone and they leaned in even closer.

The night was theirs.

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**PSAN:** Thank you for reading this, I hope you enjoyed it. Please Read & Review!

Special thanks to Mr. Hoekstra, who beta-ed this story...


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